Myself and my fellow writers at Echo Base need to inform you all with heavy hearts that we’ve lost our good friend, Brent Manara, known around here as Brent Dylan. I have no real words for this loss but considering Brent was a man who loved words, I’m struggling to find some for him. I think he’d like that.
Brent was a whirlwind, a natural storm. He had infinite energy and was always ready to do anything you were ready to do, no matter how crazy intense, or laid back and chill. At least that’s how I’ll remember him as. Because the truth is, he came into and out of my life so sporadically, I’m not sure I’ll ever know him like I should.
I just figured that would be our relationship our whole lives. We’d regroup for epic Ween reunion shows and we’d throw bullshit back and forth in the Echo Base chat and comment section forever.
Fuck. You don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone.
Because here’s the problem, now that he is gone, and I’m reading his writing and his social media posts and his text messages to me, I realize that I instantly miss this guy. He made everything better. He sent you a text and you lit up, like what the hell is this guy gonna say this time!? It was always amazing. He always had some “oh my fucking shit god” thing to tell you. He made everything sound as exciting as he saw it to be. He painted the world in a vibrant light.
He was passionate about everything political. Music. Books. Movies. Think Pieces. He devoured information every chance he could, and when it came time to give that information back, he passionately broke it down, every nuance. He was a genius.
Again, I’m only realizing this now. Fuck.
I’m going to miss our friend Brent, I’m going to miss him so much more when I wake up from this dream state that I’m writing this post in, but for now I just know that I’m going to miss him.
I want you all to read some of his work if you can. He LOVED life. He ADORED life. He ripped through life like a muscle car doing 120mph through a city, blasting punk rock with his middle finger in the air, still stopping to help old ladies cross the street of course. He was both a maniac and a lover. And he made it look so good too. Even the gritty. He brought it all to life.
Brent’s Author Page: http://echoba.se/author/Brent_Dylan/
Some of his work:
Brent’s Auto-Biographical Description: “Brent Dylan is hopelessly and shamelessly entrenched in the shifty grey counter-culture oblivion of Modern America. He’s yet another pop culture casualty who has earbuds in, his eyes on his phone, and his mind in the cloud(s). His biggest passion is experiencing, sharing and spreading the spectrum of emotions via righteous and gnarly music. He also steadfastly believes Han shot first, Tyler Durden is real, and Stan Lee is God.”
RIP Brent. I’ll be looking for you when it’s my turn. I’m sure you’ll have amazing things to say about heaven.